


Going Back

by GloriousBlackout



Series: The Long Way Home [3]
Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriousBlackout/pseuds/GloriousBlackout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back home, Mark starts to dwell on the fact that his crew risked their lives to save him, while Chris tries to assure him that he would do it all again in a heartbeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Back

**Author's Note:**

> Again, while this is part of a series, it can (hopefully) be read and understood separately. I hope you enjoy this and any feedback is appreciated!

It took only three days after returning home from their European road-trip for Mark to sink into crippling boredom.

Their trip had spanned a month's worth of endless driving and exploring with little time for sitting still. As exhausting as it had been, he had revelled in the constant activity and any comfort home should have offered was overshadowed by the sheer lack of anything to do. He wanted to wander through ancient cities once more, or laugh with Chris and Beth in quaint cafés, or challenge Martinez to a game of eye-spy as they drove up steep winding roads. He wanted to listen to Vogel's improvised tours of places like Berlin and Munich and Colditz again, as the man had gone all-out in showing off as much of his country as he could in a week, and he wanted to call Lewis with all of their tales in order to make her jealous.

It was pointless to miss the trip as much as he did. It had to have ended sometime, and though the temptation to travel further east after they'd stopped off at Vogel's had been overwhelming, they'd all been exhausted and slightly homesick and had travelled home with Martinez with the silent promise that they'd return some other time. And Mark couldn't deny that it had been nice to see his home again and sleep in his own bed, and see his parents after a month of being away.

But God, he was bored.

Chris should have had another week off work but he'd been called in during the night for an emergency and could hardly have refused, so Mark was stuck on his own in an empty house. This shouldn't have affected him as much as it did – surviving on his own was hardly beyond the realms of possibility – but he'd grown used to constant company. He missed the chatter in their Jeep as they drove for miles, he missed thrilling Vogel's kids with tales of his daring escape from Mars and he missed being in packed cities surrounded by people. He missed noise and distractions, and the lack of it was making all of his old demons come crawling back from the woodwork.

Last night had marked his first nightmare in an entire month. Chris had already left by then, had promised that he'd be home as soon as possible. That reassurance hadn't helped when Mark had woken on sweat-soaked sheets; images of the crew starving to death after their supply probe had failed to dock threatening to make tears spill from his eyes until he remembered that he was no longer on Mars.

He'd been unable to go back to sleep after that and, unlike Chris, he had no work to fall back on. He wouldn't start back at NASA for another week and even then, lecturing recruits would not bring the intensity he craved. He needed back-breaking labour or the constant buzz of activity to keep his brain from feeding him semi-repressed horrors, and if he couldn't have that then he needed Chris's arms around him and his whispered words to wash away his fears. The current silence of the house seemed alien after so long surrounded by those he loved, and he could not ignore that he felt like he could step outside and find himself faced with a Martian desert.

Knowing he would need to keep himself occupied, he poured himself a cup of coffee and dug out the USB filled with Beth's photos from their trip. If he couldn't go back to Europe, he could at least let himself feel nostalgic about it and let warm memories wash away the horrors that his mind would rather feed him. His laptop seemed to take longer than usual to load and his coffee tasted bitter, but he paid no mind and inserted the USB before bringing up the photos.

He was relieved to find a genuine smile forming as he skimmed through the hundreds of images Beth had captured. Most were professional looking photographs of old cathedrals or lush forests or sprawling cityscapes, but every now and then he would stumble across an image of them all gathered around the camera with their tongues out, or one with Vogel looking proud next to a German landmark, or the time in the mountains where Beth had managed to capture the exact moment Martinez's snowball had hit the side of Chris's face.

He saw pictures he hadn't even realised Beth had taken as well, such as one of Chris looking out in awe at the view of Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower, or the time where they'd been subject to the gorgeous views from the Alps but Mark had only had eyes for Chris's face.

And then there was the picture that he'd been all too aware of Beth taking; his red face marked by the dawning realisation that he'd just confidently said 'Merci!' in an Italian restaurant (to be fair, they had been in France that very morning).

His heart hurt for the longing to go back, but the memories brought a feeling of happiness that had accompanied him throughout their entire trip, and he made a mental note to e-mail Beth to thank her for sharing them. A small part of him wondered if it was too early to plan the next journey. It still amazed him that he could do that without any trace of apprehension; that he could be excited for a trip spanning thousands of miles rather than fearful it might kill him.

It was because of his crewmates that he had that ability. That knowledge never escaped him; his love for his rescuers sometimes enough to swallow him whole. He could never repay them for what they'd done; for the hundreds of days they'd sacrificed and the risks they'd taken just to get his sorry ass off Mars. They would tell him that there was nothing to owe, they would commit mutiny for him again in a heartbeat, but that didn't make it easier to accept. These people meant the world to him, Chris most of all, and they could have died for him.

A familiar chill seeped into his bones at that thought, bringing him back to Mars with more ease than a rocket ever could. It was foolish to get caught up in old fears, he knew, but his mind subjected him to it regardless.

He was still sat in front of his laptop when Chris arrived home, the screen having gone black long ago and presenting him only with his exhausted reflection. He snapped out of his funk easily enough at the sound of Chris's voice calling through the house, asking if he was okay, and he let his hand skim over the mouse to bring back the holiday photos once more.

Chris walked into their lounge just in time to see the selfie Beth had taken of the three of them from their overnight stop in the French Alps; she and Chris smiling serenely while Mark sat beside them with his tongue stuck out and his left eyebrow raised dramatically. Chris's laughter as he threw himself down on the couch beside Mark was enough to make him feel better for the moment, and he quickly skipped to the next image before his stupid face imprinted itself on his brain.

He skimmed through pictures he'd already seen while Chris watched from beside him, laughing occasionally at the sillier ones but mostly just soaking in the memories quietly. It got to the stage where Mark couldn't help himself though; the sight of his friends happy and alive too deep a contrast to what could have happened to them had their return to Mars gone wrong.

"You're all idiots, you know that?" He sounded more bitter than he'd have liked and he knew that he shouldn't be. He was grateful, eternally and deeply grateful, but he knew that if he didn't confront what was bothering him then it would swallow his mind whole. Chris was looking at him with barely masked confusion and it hurt more than it should have done.

"You had the chance to go home. To go home to your families and let NASA sort everything out. But you risked your lives to come back for me." Saying the words made the entire situation sound even more ridiculous. Their five lives were worth far more than the price of his. The risks they had taken had never been worth it. "You could have _died_ for me. The probe might not have docked and you'd have starved, or Hermes could have broken down somehow or..."

He stopped, the images from nightmares that had plagued him since his rescue feeling close enough to touch, and he found himself reaching for Chris's hand even as he willed himself to be angry at the man. Chris didn't say a word but a side-glance showed that he was tense, watching Mark carefully as if expecting him to break. It only served to make him feel worse, and his voice seemed smaller than he'd have liked as he continued. "I would have driven to Schiaparelli only to find out from NASA that I'd lost you all. I was never worth that, Chris, I never..."

He trailed off, deflated, all of the fears that had festered in his brain since he'd first discovered that his crew were coming back for him out in the open. He felt raw and exposed but perhaps that was for the best, and he only vaguely felt the pressure of Chris's hand tightening around his own.

"You're forgetting that we lost _you_ ," Chris replied eventually, his voice tight and choked, and Mark turned to look at him only to see tears forming in his eyes. The sight felt like a punch in the gut but he listened to what Chris had to say, giving him the same silence he'd offered him. "I saw you flatline and had to accept that you were dead for two months before NASA told us you were still alive, and even then we were useless. We'd left you alone on a desolate rock and it was too late to do anything about it."

He took a deep breath and it hit Mark that he hadn't heard this side of things before; his only knowledge of the crew's experiences being what little Martinez had been able to tell him. He'd never pressed the crew for their stories, had never dreamed of forcing them to live through that again. And yet here was Chris spilling out his heart, and Mark didn't have the strength to stop him.

"So when the manoeuvre came through and there was suddenly a slim hope of saving you, of course we were gonna take it. There was no question about it. We didn't care that it was dangerous, we just saw it as the best way to get you home." Chris turned to look at him, eyes wet but not shedding any tears, trying to be strong as he had been ever since he'd freed Mark from the MAV. "And it worked. You're here and there's still times where I can't believe it, but you're really here. So call us idiots as much as you want; I'd make the same decision again in a heartbeat."

It was surreal, being faced with how much his life could mean to others. On Mars he had started to feel like he was a part of something bigger than himself, something more beautiful, but that had only been what he'd told himself in order to accept that he wouldn't die for nothing. He couldn't understand what made him worth so much to his crew, to Chris, that they would risk so much for him. He doubted he would ever understand.

But he was thankful. So unbelievably thankful that it made his heart ache, and he knew that he needed Chris to know that. He couldn't stay angry for what his crewmates had done when it had handed him a new chance at life that he could never even have dreamt of having.

"You're still idiots," he said, but he smiled as sincerely as he could to assure Chris that he wasn't truly upset anymore. The man still seemed unsure, hesitant, so Mark brought up the hand that was still wrapped around his own and kissed it softly. "But thank you. I don't know how I can begin to thank you."

Chris smiled softly and any tension that was left shattered, and Mark was only now aware that he was crying. "You don't need to do anything, Mark. I'm just happy you're back." Chris wrapped an arm around him and brought him closer, and Mark let his head rest against the man's chest; his heartbeat reminding him that they were both here, safe and alive, and that nothing could tear them apart again while he had any say in the matter. He almost didn't hear Chris when he spoke up again, too caught up in how comforting it was to be in his arms. "Besides, you'd probably have done the same if it were me in your shoes."

Mark knew that if Chris had been the one left behind then he would have had to be dragged to the MAV kicking and screaming. He didn't have Chris's strength; wouldn't be able to swallow his pain and keep a level head at the sight of his lover's biomonitor flatlining, wouldn't have the strength to ensure that Lewis got back on board safely because he'd be too caught up in searching for Chris despite all the signs telling him he was dead.

If it had been Chris left behind then they'd both have starved on Mars long ago, and perhaps Lewis too. He couldn't imagine her leaving them both behind.

He ignored that, however, and imagined himself still on Hermes and hearing that there was a way to go back and save Chris, and he knew he would take that opportunity without a second thought. He let out a sigh before sitting up again and facing Chris with a defeated smile. "You know I'd do the same. Although, considering you're not an awesome botanist, we'd really have been fighting against the clock to save your sorry ass..."

Chris looked at him with a scandalised expression before he burst out laughing, and Mark knew that the heavy conversation was over. He felt lighter and the quiet of the house was no longer as imposing as it had been in the morning. He would still give anything to have tomorrow be filled to the brim with activity, to have work to do or places to see, but he would have Chris here with him and he knew that would be enough in the meantime.

The fact that either of them were here at all was miraculous enough. Perhaps it was time he embraced that rather than letting himself be haunted by a planet that was millions of miles away.


End file.
